Missing Home
by Numbered Letters
Summary: It takes you three weeks to realize that LA was a mistake. It takes you six months to start talking to Chloe again. It takes one year for you to finally find the courage to invite her down.


**Only know you've been high when you're feeling low,**

**Only hate the road when you're missing home,**

**Only know you love her when you let her go,**

**And you let her go**

**- Let Her Go by Passenger**

* * *

It takes you three weeks to realize that LA was a mistake. It's your stubbornness and shame that kept you from going back home to Barden. It would be unbearable to admit to yourself that you turned your back on the Bellas twice.

It takes you six months to start talking to Chloe again. She texts you back immediately with an extravagant amount of smiley faces and exclamation points. It breaks your heart even more because despite her efforts to seem normal, you know that she's hurting.

It takes one year for you to finally find the courage to invite her down.

You keep reminding yourself that it's only a visit, that its only for a day. But damn, nothing stops your heart from speeding up every time you think about it. It's highly distracting, and you go the whole week doing a horrible job at mixing. The club owner docks your pay on Friday for your poor performance and warns you to get your shit together for next week. You honestly can't find it in yourself to give a damn.

You haven't yet made it big in LA since you left Barden; though you're luckier than some others. It took you a couple of months, but you finally landed a DJ-ing job at a small club. You hope that it will eventually lead to a job that will allow you to pay for an apartment larger than a cardboard box.

Sometimes you feel as if you're on top of the world, working towards the dream you've harbored since you were a child. These nights almost always occur after a particularly excellent gig, and usually end with you gazing at the stars and city lights from the top of your apartment building, not able to wipe that stupid grin off of your face.

Most of the time, however, you feel alone. Though you've been in LA for more than a year, you have yet to make an actual friend here. Not even your music makes you feel less... empty. Sometimes, when you're really drunk, you try to fill all the empty spaces with one night stands. You make sure to avoid anyone with red hair and blue eyes. You always feel even worse the mornings after.

Sometimes you love LA, and sometimes you hate it.

Sometimes you think you'd love it all the time if you could share it with a certain redhead. You never admit that to yourself when you're sober, though.

You decide to meet Chloe at your favorite coffee shop. You don't want her to see your tiny apartment or the seedy club that you work at; somehow, it would make you feel even worse for ever leaving Barden. For ever leaving her.

It's a quaint little shop not far from your apartment, nestled between a book store and a Chinese restaurant. Some mornings, you think that you could be back at Barden out on a coffee date with one of the Bellas or studying for an exam, but only if you squint your eyes hard enough.

You get to the shop thirty minutes early. You've been up all night mixing and thinking and worrying. You forgo your usual order and ask for decaf instead. It doesn't keep your hands from shaking any less.

The first five minutes consist of you sipping your coffee morosely. The next five, you're barely able to hide your giddiness, like it' s fucking Christmas or something. Your keys jangle noisily as you shake your leg underneath the table and you tap your fingers incessantly on the tabletop. You feel like a little kid for fidgeting like this, but it helps you keep from thinking about exactly _why_ you're here. Almost.

After twenty minutes, you begin to doubt that she'll even come, despite her texts promising that she will. You seriously consider leaving the coffee shop and forgetting about everything, drinking your body weight in vodka instead. You hate yourself even more for thinking about deserting Chloe for a third time. You decide to stay.

You spot her through the window immediately. She checks her phone to double check the address and walks through the door apprehensively. It's the first time you've ever seen Chloe unsure of herself and you hate it.

You stand from where you're sitting, knocking your leg on the table and almost spilling your coffee in the process. A couple customers stare at you awkwardly, but you're focused on Chloe because she's here. She's actually here.

It's almost, you decide, like seeing her for the first time all over again. The shock of it all makes you forget how to breathe and you feel like the freshman at the activities fair. The next thought that comes to your mind is that she looks amazing. Though her hair is slightly mussed from the plane and she looks exhausted, her azure eyes still enrapture you.

She seems different somehow, though you're not sure exactly how. Another pang of guilt shoots through you as you realize that she's spent over a year without you.

Like always, you're painfully awkward around her. You're not sure what to say, but your mouth keeps opening and closing anyway. Like always, she smiles good naturedly at you; this time, it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her almost smile lasts only for a moment before she positively beams at you and quickly closes the gap between the two of you and hugs you tightly.

"Hi," she more breathes than whispers into your hair.

"Chloe-". Your greeting catches in your throat. What comes out instead is the realization that you came to as soon as you left her; it's the reason for all of the useless mixes of sad songs that you make on rainy days, and why your heartbeats turn staccato and your breath catches whenever you spot someone who remotely resembles Chloe in the club. "I love you."

She hugs you tighter.

* * *

**AN: This was my first fic so... let me know what you think. Criticism is welcomed. Oh, and I don't own Pitch Perfect, which is a damn shame.**


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